I need to be writing. The rewrites are going okay. Slow, but okay. Like I’ve said, I love this part of the process when I go over each page and add the ambiance. Here’s a clip from yesterday’s work:
That night, I sat on my front porch watching the ocean, sipping blackberry herbal tea, and brooding. Usually, I felt more a part of the world of nature than that of humans. The earth called to me, especially water.
That night, I sat on my front porch, staring at a narrow, glistening strip of ocean– the only part of the coast visible from the light of the full moon. I blew lightly on my blackberry tea before taking a cautious sip.
Most of the sky rolled thick and black from the blanket of clouds that wrapped everything except the moon. She glowered through, as if daring them to block her light. Usually, I felt more a part of nature’s world than that of human’s. The earth called to me, especially water. The never-ending expanse of moving, living liquid, the sucking swoosh of it crashing into the beach..the tinge of salt on the wind. Somehow, it all worked together to wipe the worries from my mind.
But not tonight.
But today, for me, is a pain! I simply can’t concentrate. I brought my laptop into the kitchen so I can keep the TV on. I wish the news would just stay on so I didn’t have to listen to the silly soap operas. There is more drama on the screen than I can handle. And the cheese factor???? I’m going to end up constipated. Eck. But, I have to stay alert because there is a massive storm coming into our area. It’s this huge, menacing blob of red that keeps advancing toward us on the map.
Did I mention I’m not that fond of spring in Oklahoma? I’m actually pretty nervous about this one.
And I’m glad I just called Rachel. She was reading–didn’t have the TV on.
Last night, the tornadoes touched down near my home before the sirens went off. Right now, it’s raining and dark and I keep looking toward the sky for this sort of thing. Funny, how it can start out kind of pretty.
Then it turns to this.
And for those of us who were around on May 3rd, 1999, it’s so hard not to remember this F5.
Okay, I had a picture of the resulting damage, but damn, I’m nervous enough. Right now, I’m sooo wishing I’d talked my husband into putting in the storm shelter. Most tornadoes aren’t F5s–thank goodness–so an internal closet–or in my case, a closet within a closet under the stairs–works fine.
I just looked at my television.
WTF? Right now, on my screen, there is some seriously ripped dude, blindfolded and tied to a chair, while some uh… half leather-clad man, half plaid-skirted woman strolls around him issuing threats in a four-pack a day husky voice. “I’m all tingly,” it’s saying.
I want the anxious newsman prattle back. Anything is better than this show.